


Burn

by mrc_1205



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/F, Flowers, Fluff, James Reynolds Being an Asshole, Kid Fic, Meet-Cute, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27389986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrc_1205/pseuds/mrc_1205
Summary: Maria Reynolds runs a small flower shop since she divorced her husband; one day, in this shop: she meets who she thinks might be the most beautiful woman she's ever met.Alteratively: Maria runs a flower shop and sees Eliza
Relationships: Maria Reynolds/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> My friends told me I needed to write more f/f stiff so here is my first offering. 
> 
> There might be smut late down the line because I have been corrupted.

Maria Reynolds runs a small flower shop since she divorced her husband two months ago. Her and her daughter live in the apartment above the shop and they are finally getting into the swing of the new routine. The flower shop is in bustling Brooklyn and New York life is much different to the life Maria led with her husband James back in Texas, but she likes it back in her hometown; especially since her and her daughter, Susan, are away from his poisonous grip. 

As usual, Maria walkes Susan two blocks away to her daycare at around 6 am, the toddler happily babbling down the street as they take in the warm morning sun. Once Susan is safely playing with her friends; Maria walks quickly back to the shop in order to open up by 6:30.

She manages to get to the shop in time and opens up before a pretty normal day at work. After the normal rush of people getting flowers for bosses and such, the shop goes quiet for a bit and so Maria just potters around. 

Around lunch there’s another rush so Maria only manages to grab something to eat at around 3pm. Once she gets back to the shop she opens up her takeaway soup from the small café across the street, run by her friend John Laurens. 

As she is just finishing up her soup the most beautiful woman walks through the door, her hair is in a low ponytail, but there are baby hairs flying all over the place. Her dress is clearly meant for a formal occasion, as it’s almost long enough to graze the floor and a beautiful sky blue colour. The dress matches perfectly with her bright blue eyes, which sparkle magnificently in the early afternoon sunshine. She seems out of breath until she catches her breath. Then she stands up straight and a wave of calm seems to rush over her flushed features, “Good afternoon,” she says as she saunters towards a breathless Maria, who suddenly realises she has a mouthful of soup she had forgotten about as the woman walked in. She swallows hastily and returns the greeting.

“What do you need?” The tanned woman asks.

“Well,” The woman in blue, as Maria dubs her, laughed a little as she spoke, “I’m supposed to be going to my older sister’s wedding but I forgot flowers and now she’s freaking out because,” she began imitating her sister’s voice, “‘I can’t have my Maid of Honour not have flowers’ so she sent me here to get some.”

Maria snaps out of her speechless daze and somehow her brain computes what the beautiful woman was saying, “Sure, what’s the wedding colour scheme?” Suddenly Maria sees her mistake in the woman's dress colour, “Or, I mean, is it blue? I’d suggest possibly some irises then.” She soon realises she’s babbling, just like Susan was that morning, so she shut up.

“No,” The woman seems almost as nervous as Maria, “The colour scheme is pinks but as Maid of Honour my sister says my dress should stand out, so it’s blue. I personally would have liked to wear a suit.” She says with a wink.

“Okay so pink flowers, maid of honour.” Maria says as she felt the blush rise from her neck. 

As she steps out from the counter the lady practically screams, “I love your style!” Then, “Sorry that was a bit loud, just, I love the doc martens and the,” she waves her arms enthusiastically as Maria continues to blush profusely, “Choker and such.” 

Maria practically chokes, she has been on the internet long enough to think this might be flirting: the girl pointed out her  **doc martens** : that’s pretty gay. She racks her brain, “I- um, I like your nails,” she points out the woman in blue’s short nails, with chipped navy polish shining on them. 

Maria begins fumbling with some pink hydrangeas and the other woman continues blushing as she replies, “Thanks.”

Their hands brush as they both admire the flowers and Maria can swear she feels sparks run up her arm. “I’m Eliza, by the way.” Her companion says. 

“Maria.”

“You’re really pretty,” Eliza says. 

Maria’s mind goes into overdrive thinking: ‘Is this flirting or is she nice? I don’t think she’s straight but I shouldn’t make assumptions. Does she like me?’

“I was thinking maybe we could grab coffee sometime? Maybe when I’m not in such a rush.”

Once again Maria’s brain refuses to work properly, causing the other woman to back-track her request for what appears to be a date, “No, no, no, I would love to go on a date with you,” Maria catches, “If you were asking me on a date? I don’t mind. I-”

Blushing furiously, Eliza replies, “Yeah, it was a date.” Now both start laughing as Maria nods in hope that that conveys her wish to date this gorgeous woman, “Shit!” the woman exclaims as she glances at her petite watch, “I have to go or my sister will literally kill me. Do you have any paper? So I can give you my number.” She asks as Maria moves behind the till to grab paper and ring up the small bouquet she made up for Eliza, “And I need to pay for the flowers, of course I don’t expect not to pay.”

She continues to ramble about the wedding and her family and how gorgeous Maria is and how difficult this big dress is. When the flowers are ready and Maria is equipped with Eliza’s number she walks the pretty woman to the door.

“Good luck,” she says, before gracing Eliza’s lips with a delicate kiss; placing the bouquet in her grip as she lets the girl out into the warm day.

“Thank you,” Eliza replies but Maria can’t tell if she means for the flowers, the date or the kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked that... they're both terrible at flirting I know: it was sort of the point.
> 
> Comments + kudos appreciated :)


End file.
